Tarzan
by ChippedTeacup
Summary: Dean and his crew have traveled the world searching for the elusive cross river gorilla. What he finds is no primate, but rather the love of his life. Too bad what happened in the jungle is now only a memory. Based off the Disney movie.


**Supernatural—Dean/Castiel—Romance/Angst—One-Shot—Rated T**

_So this was originally going to be a part of a five-fic series involving the Disney princesses, but then I had to get all emotionally attached to this fic and it wound up being a one-shot. Figures. ^^; Anywho, this is based off the movie _Tarzan. _Don't own anything and reviews are always lovely.~ _

Captain Dean Winchester stepped down from the _USS Impala_ and set his leather-soled feet onto the white sand of the island. The sun's yellow beams scorched the retinas and created a blistering heat ripe with perspiration. Muggy humidity enveloped him and the crew as mosquitoes flocked to his unmarked flesh. He rested a hand to his forehead in an attempt to shade himself and chanced a glimpse at the sun. Its form was unrecognizable thanks to the out-stretched rays of light illuminating the sky and sand into one palate of white. The idea of a cloud to shade them was a ridiculous hope.

"Not a very nice day for research, is it?" said Professor Adam, dabbing his brows with a handkerchief. "We'll be as roasted as pigs by the end of the day."

Dean just grinned and slung his bag of supplies over his shoulder. "C'mon, professor. Think of it as a vacation to a tropical paradise!" He marched in the direction of the forest, silently thanking the US government for such breathable sailor uniforms.

"Would you slow down, ya idjit?" yelled the retired Marine, Bobby Singer. "We've got all the time in the world to go exploring, but I need your help unloading the ship!" He hoisted a chest full of equipment overboard, letting it land the sand with a muffled thump. A mushroom cloud of sand dusted Dean and Adam, and they both coughed on the stale debris.

"It'll only be a minute!" He ran into the woods before he could get a yes or no, stumbling only once from stray branches or vines. The jungle was absolutely breathtaking from below the canopy. Dense vegetation created an overcast of shade throughout, letting only a few pockets of sunlight stream through the foliage. A myriad of bird calls could be heard in the distance, creating a symphony of caws and tweets. Frogs and toads croaked from the underbrush, and he thought he could hear running water somewhere in the heart of the forest. The air was labored with condensation, leaving a moist flavor on his lips. Everything was a dazzling green, nothing but hues of emerald for as far as the eye could see.

Dean's grin widened, and he whistled a response to the lyrical birds. He felt right at home among the flora and fauna, feeling no sense of danger despite being in the middle of the animal kingdom.

He couldn't, however, shake off the feeling that something—or some_one_—was watching him from the shadows.

It took them hours to set up camp, with all the delicate equipment and bickering over where to pitch the tents. The whole point of them being here was to collect data on the endangered gorilla species _Gorilla gorilla diehli, _specifically the habitats, food source, mating patterns, and number of them on the island. There were only a few hundred left in existence thanks to an increase in consumer demand and illegal poaching, so now Dean and his crew of two were in charge of the quantitative and qualitative statistics needed by the government. It was more entertaining than it sounded.

With the sun sliding down the horizon, they could now make the excuse of putting research off until tomorrow. Night would come too quickly and it was too easy to get lost during the day let alone vulnerable and in the pitch-black.

Nevertheless, Dean wanted to explore. If they could find a pack of gorillas now, it would save them hours of searching the following morning. Neither Bobby nor Professor Adam would allow him to leave the campsite alone, but Dean was nothing if not rebellious. Armed with only a hunting knife and compass, he set out into the forest.

The island transformed in the evening darkness. Thick vines looping along trunks and branches were now coiled snakes with gleaming fangs. Ferns cast cackling shadows, wicked smiles grinned from slits in the canopy. He could feel a pair of eyes bore into the back of his skull, but every time he checked behind him, nothing greeted him but murky nightfall.

Far too soon did the moon capture the sun and far too soon did Dean lose his way. The compass spun in what seemed like every direction and he couldn't even tell which end was red and which end was white. Blackness engulfed him, not one beam of light could make its way through the umbra. He gripped the hilt of his blade and tried to calm his frantic breathing.

A twig snapped behind him.

Dean spun around, his knife poised to slash and his body tense. "Who's there?"

There was a pause and then the sound of bare feet on wet grass. Dean's eyes widened, his pupils grasping for some small beam of light to expose this monster.

"He-llo." The creature stepped out from the shadows and into a small beam of moonlight. He was a man.

Dean changed his stance, all fear replaced with confusion. "Who the hell are you?"

"M-My name's Castiel." His voice was deep and cracked like it he hadn't used speech in a long time. He tried making his way closer to Dean. "Who a-are you and why have you come?"

Deciding the man was harmless enough, he slipped the blade into its holster and lent a hand to shake. "The name's Dean Winchester, US marine. My crew and I are here to research the cross river gorillas believed to have inhabited this island."

The man stared at his hand far longer than necessary before reluctantly shaking. He didn't respond to Dean's monologue, choosing instead to rake his gaze all over his body.

Dean coughed, a new sense of awkwardness coating the conversation. "So, um, are you a researcher or something? Because I don't remember Corporal Jensen assigning anyone else on this mission—"

"Are you lost?"

Dean paused and checked his compass. Still impossible to tell north or south thanks to the overwhelming darkness. He sighed and replied, "Yeah, looks like it."

"Come with me." Castiel grabbed Dean's hand and led him into an even deeper part of the jungle. Dean strained to see the man's form ducking and turning around seemingly invisible branches, and multiple times did he nearly trip over a rock or bush. He tried to pull himself out of the man's grasp—he barely knew him for God's sake!—but his grip was firm.

After a long, silent hike, they made their way into a small clearing. An enormous tree grew in the center, its branches blocking out any moonbeams that may have slipped through the canopy cracks. Dean squinted up into the labyrinth of leaves, his mouth parted in astonishment.

"Is this where you liv—" He was cut off by a pair of strong arms lifting him off the ground and flinging him over Castiel's shoulder fireman-style. In the same movement, they were climbing the tree, the ground beneath them slowly disappearing from sight. Dean clung to any part of Castiel he could touch, panic and fear transmogrifying into complete terror.

This fear was without merit, as Castiel carried him safely up the tree and to a small hut nestled in the branches. From what Dean could make out, it looked barely big enough to hold Castiel let alone the two of them together.

Words were a forgone way of communication for Castiel, as Dean had finally learned. He set Dean down gently on a strong tree limb and gave him a nudge in the direction of the tiny house. He snatched Castiel's hand for balance and they slowly made their way across until they were finally inside.

Dean took a deep inhale and glanced around his surroundings. He couldn't see two inches from his face, but he could certainly feel. The rough bark scratched his legs through the fabric, twigs and mud forming a wall pressed into his back. But most of all, he could feel Cas. Their legs were entangled, toes touching and thighs entwined. His hand was locked in a death grip with Cas', and it was only now that he could feel all the rough callouses and scar lines. If he wanted to, he could rest his head on his shoulder and close his eyes…

"Goodnight, Dean," whispered Castiel. It was the last thing he heard before slipping into dreamland.

Dean woke up the next morning with the sensation of breath tickling his ear and a warm arm curled around his waist. Warm daybreak shone through the entrance of the hut, and it was only now that Dean could see Castiel.

A mop of shaggy, dark brown locks topped his head. He had a sharp nose, full lips, and long lashes framed his lids. Tense muscle strained on his joints, but his expression was an unmarred calm; he had no lines or furrowed brows. His slightly-tanned skin glowed gold from the soft beams…he almost looked angelic.

He snapped out of his unintentional ogling and finally noticed the position they were in. Essentially, they were spooning each other. Castiel's head rested on his shoulder, both their arms encircled the other's torso. Their legs couldn't even be identified, since they were so tangled together. This wasn't a huge problem, however, as the hut was pretty cramped to begin with. No, it was the clothing that presented a major problem. Namely, Castiel's complete and utter _lack _of it.

Dean's cheeks flushed pink and he turned away in an attempt to not look like a pervert. This accomplished nothing, as the movement of his head jerking back was enough to wake Castiel's slumber. His eyes bolted awake, muscles instinctively clenched in case of predators, but he did not move from his position. Instead, he turned his head slightly and murmured, "Good morning, Dean."

The utter blackness of night had shown his eyes to be coal-black and dangerous. Now, even in the slight shadow of the hut, he could see such a viciously blue pair. "Um, good morning, Castiel."

He had hoped the slight conversation would provoke him to move off—he was effectively trapped beneath the other man—but instead they stayed clinging together, staring into each other's eyes like some cheesy romance.

Finally, Castiel moved off and crawled out of the hut, giving Dean a somewhat blinding glimpse at…yeah. He scrunched his eyes shut for a second and then followed Cas out into the tree.

"Hey, um, do you think you can help me find my base camp? I got really lost last night and it'll take me hours to find them…"

Castiel stared at him for a moment and then descended down the tree, easily swinging from vine to branch without any clumsy footing. Dean gaped and tried to follow, his fear of heights rearing its ugly head as he clung to the tree trunk.

After a seemingly endless, terror-inducing climb down, Dean finally made it to land. Castiel, who had been waiting patiently for Dean to land, shot him a bemused smile before walking off into the jungle. "You're incredibly graceful, Dean."

"Shut up!" He grinned at the jibe and followed him through the vegetation, completely assured that Castiel was no one to fear, but a friendly…acquaintance.

A while later, Dean could see the bright flecks of flame rising over the bushes. Arguments got muddled together over the crackle of the fire but there was no denying that they had reached the base camp.

Dean turned to Castiel and shot him a grateful smile. "Thanks so much for this. I thought my ass would get killed out there."

A corner of his mouth turned up. "It is not a problem." Castiel turned on his heel and was about to leave.

"Wait!" Dean grabbed Cas' arm, having absolutely no idea why he wanted this stranger around him and yet was completely determined to see him once more. "If I wanted to see you again, how could I find you?"

He seemed taken aback by this, his eyes widening just a fraction more. "I suppose if you wanted to find me…you could whistle." And with that, Cas pulled his arm free and ran back into the maze of green.

Bobby and Professor Adam had been furious when Dean returned. "Do you know how worried we were?" "Where in hell did you run off too?" "Why didn't you bring a lantern?" "Why did you have to leave at night?" "You could've at least told us you were leaving!" They managed to calm down once Dean explained that he didn't mean to get so lost and that he had built a small shelter about a half mile away to stay the night in. He left out the part where Castiel saved his life by finding him in the woods. Somehow he just knew that exposing Castiel's existence to them would be a disastrous mistake.

After having a bit of breakfast, the team decided to map out the east side of the island and try finding any gorillas. Dean was a bit dubious about the east side since he _was_ lost in that part and found no primates, but they had to be thorough.

And so the search began.

It took them days before they completely covered the east side, even after splitting up into two teams—Dean as one and Professor Adam and Bobby on the other. It got awfully lonely trekking through the jungle alone day after day, even with the company of wildlife.

So Dean began to whistle.

He started after the third day of boredom. Sure, it was interesting and all to see rare specimens of flowers and hear the calls of tropical birds, but it did get monotonous after hours upon hours of searching and still no sightings. As he stroked the leaves of a nearby fern plant, he couldn't help but think about Cas. As weird and quiet as he was, he sparked a curiosity in Dean. Who was he and what was he doing on this island? Was he as bored as Dean was now?

It was that thought which made his lips purse and caused music notes to flow out. The sound was timid at first, as shaky as his nerves, but he soon found a rhythm to match the birds around him. He whistled some tunes he knew from back at home, a couple pro-war songs he knew from training got added to the mix. It was almost comforting to whistle in time with the wildlife around him, like he was a part of it instead of some alien stranger.

Sometime later, Cas appeared. Dean was kind of surprised that Cas had even bothered to show up—or even heard his whistle for that matter—but he smiled the second he heard the telltale footfalls.

It had been a bit awkward at first with neither of the two knowing how to start a conversation or really knowing how to hold onto one. But it soon became easier. They would travel through the deepest parts of the forest and talk about the type of creatures that lived in the jungle, or Dean's work as a Marine. The easy things.

At first, Castiel's appearance would be rather brief. They'd converse for a few hours before he'd leave, saying that he should catch some food for later or check up on his hut. After a week or so, his quick departures became a thing of the past. Dean would leave camp the second daybreak made its way onto the island. When he thought he was far away enough from camp, he whistled, long and loud, waiting for Castiel to show up. He'd arrive in minutes and the two of them would become inseparable until darkness began to envelope them.

Dean learned a lot from Cas after that. He learned how to track certain animals even after a hard rain and how to travel through the trees without ever looking down. In return, Castiel got to use Dean's "advanced" technology such as pocket watches and Swiss army knives. He nearly sliced a finger on the latter, but Dean was cautious enough to move Cas' hand out of the way in time.

One day, they got caught in a torrential downpour. It had started out innocently enough—just a light mist dampening their skin. But then thunder began to growl and the heavens erupted. Fat droplets of rain pounded the earth, drenching everything in its wake. Dean's uniform was soaked in seconds, the whole sopping mess clinging to his goose-bumped flesh. They laughed and raced each other to the hut, splashing each other with fronds full of water and pushing to make it ahead. By the time they had finally made it to shelter, they were both drenched and shivering.

It only made sense to huddle together in the safety of the hut, both of them clinging to each other for whatever body heat they had left. Cas' teeth began to chatter and Dean couldn't help but laugh. Cas smacked his head, but grinned in return, his teeth clattering in time with their trembling bodies.

And then they were kissing the daylights out of each other. It was first hesitant and tender then heated and hungry. Their tongues wrestled for dominance, lips bitten, and teeth clashing. They moaned and growled as wandering hands roamed over each other's body, nothing but primal urge and overpowering lust. Castiel tasted so sweet, like berries and dew. Dean couldn't get enough of him.

…They made love for the first time inside that hut. It was fierce and tender, passionate and soft. They fell asleep in each other's arms afterward, both wearing blissful smiles.

Dean would sneak out from the crew's camp every night so he could kiss Castiel under the canopy of stars.

He couldn't remember a time where he had been happier.

Dean woke up one morning to the sounds of trunk latches and muttered arguments. Opening his bleary eyes, he saw Bobby and Professor Adam take down the tents and take apart their equipment before shoving the supplies into their trunks.

"Well don't just watch, boy! C'mon over and give us a hand," ordered Bobby as he handed Dean a coil of rope. "We're leaving this God-forsaken island at noon."

Dean's eyes widened, panic surging through his veins. "Wait, when did we agree on this?" He got up from his makeshift bed and ran over to Bobby, who was stomping out their evening campfire.

"Weeks ago, ya idjit. We finished searching the island and have found nothing, so unless you can give me one helluva good reason for us to stay, we're leaving." He shot Dean a knowing look. "And maybe that reason can explain why you've been sneaking off all hours of the damn day."

Dean swallowed and looked at the ground. So he had noticed. "Look, Bobby, maybe we could—"

"Like I said, ship's sailing at noon. If you really don't want to go home, you can stay here." And with that, he slung a bag of supplies over his shoulder and made off towards the beach.

Dean didn't waste a second. He ran off into the thickest part of the jungle and whistled as loud as he could. Where the hell was Cas?

"What is it, Dean?" Dean spun around and saw Castiel somewhat hidden in the plants. His head was tilted in that confused manner which Dean had begun to love during the past few weeks, and that made his heart ache even more.

"We're leaving today, at noon." He ran a hand through his hair, his stomach clenching in knots as he said those fatal words. He didn't need to explain that they were never come back.

Castiel stepped forward, his face expressionless. "I'm not going to see you ever again, am I?"

Dean could feel his heart shatter. "Cas, I have to go. My family's in America, and I'd never see them again if—" he paused midsentence, an idea forming in his head. "You could come with us! I mean, we'd kind of have to hide once we get there, but—"

"What do you mean 'hide'? Dean, you're my mate. Mates are supposed to show their love for each other no matter what." His level tone broke, the frustration and hurt leaking out.

"But Cas, it's not that simple! We could go to jail just for holding hands!" His voice began to rise as the desperation in him increased.

"Then stay here with me." Castiel took his hand and stared deep into his eyes, nothing but pain and anguish in his. "Please, Dean, I love you so much. If you leave, I-I'll have no one. I'll be alone on this island with only memories." His eyes began to glisten with tears.

"Cas, please don't cry!..." Dean gripped him tight and kissed him repeatedly. "I'm not leaving you ever. I can't be without you, I just love you so much." He lifted Cas' chin and kissed him fiercely. "Please come with me to America, Cas. We can work it out from there, I-I just need you in my life."

"The jungle is where I belong. I don't know anything about your society a-ad if I can't even be with you…" He buried his head in Dean's chest, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I just don't know what to do, Cas. I just don't know." He held Cas closer. He didn't know if this was the last time or not.

There was a pause before Castiel whispered, "…Maybe we should part ways. Just pretend that this didn't happen." There was no emotion in his voice, just a monotonous deadpan.

Anger flashed through Dean's vision. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I don't want to leave and you don't want to stay…maybe…maybe we aren't supposed to be together."

He sighed, the anger leaving him as quickly as it came. "Don't talk shit, Cas."

"Dean…"

"No, don't say anything," he held Castiel tighter. "We are not splitting up. I love you so much, Cas, and I've learned to love the jungle too…maybe I can stay here."

Cas gently pushed Dean away. "You won't."

Dean grabbed Castiel's wrists tightly. "Why aren't you even trying for us? Why aren't you…"

Castiel tried to break away from Dean's restraints. "Dean, please. Y-you're hurting me…"

Dean immediately dropped his hold and hugged Cas once more. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry…"

Dean was on the ship, and the island was a mere speck of green on the horizon. He couldn't take his eyes off it.

Professor Adam and Bobby were conversing about how much they hated the island and wanted to go back home. They tried to get Dean to join in or at least explain why he was so upset.

They could never understand why he was crying.

~~~End~~~


End file.
